


Hide My Shame

by saruma_aki



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt, Hurt Wade Wilson, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Panic Attacks, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, Some comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-06
Updated: 2016-08-06
Packaged: 2018-07-29 15:35:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7690117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saruma_aki/pseuds/saruma_aki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aunt May comes early.</p>
<p>Wade's the only one home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hide My Shame

**Author's Note:**

> So, this one was sitting about and I was like "why not?", so now it's here.
> 
> This was really just me playing with the idea of Aunt May finding out about Wade. For some reason people seem to think she wouldn't bat an eye at the scars. I think she's a very sweet, open minded lady who would accept Wade no matter what, but I also think that she's only human and the initial appearance of his bare face is enough to scare anyone.
> 
> Like, Vanessa's reaction at the end of Deadpool, where she says that in a bit of time she'd be able to get used to it completely is probably one of the most accurate reactions I've seen to Wade's skin.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!

“Hey, Wade,” Peter called, pulling his arms through the sleeves of his coat, turning his head to watch as his lover walked out of the bathroom, toothbrush brushing away in his mouth, “I’m going out to get the cake, okay?” Peter listened Wade hum in response, his free hand resting on his hip. “Aunt May is coming at six, okay? That means we have three hours, okay?”

Wade hummed again, ambling back into the bathroom to spit and rinse before coming out again, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He moved towards Peter, pulling him close and pressing a quick peck to his forehead. “I’ll see you when you come back.”

“I shouldn’t be more than a half hour, give or take a few minutes.”

“You goin’ on the sub?” Wade slurred and he sounded slightly tired, but the man had gotten up about an hour before after a patrol gone wrong the night before.

“No, I’m walking—higher chances of me making it back on time then.”

Wade snorted, giving Peter a small smile and their lips met in a chaste kiss before Peter was pulling away.

“This place better still be clean by the time I get back,” Peter warned, tossing a teasing grin over his shoulder as he slipped out the door, throwing back a bright ‘love you’, just catching the besotted look on Wade’s face moments before the door shut.

The scarred man heaved a sigh as he looked about himself, fingers picking at his skin out of habit, pulling and tugging on horrid scars that were always shifting and changing as they healed and re-healed, never quite managing to heal fast enough before the next one took its place.

There was a knock on the door and Wade startled, looking up in confusion.

 Did Peter forget something?

He usually did—his silly baby boy.

“Come in,” he called, or rather sang, as he scrubbed his hands over his face, staring down at himself. He needed to put on a better shirt. Had to try and impress Aunt May however he could and distract her from his ugly mug.

“Peter, sweetie, I know I’m early. Something came up, though, and I didn’t want to miss this for the world—”

Wade stiffened at the sound of a voice that was distinctly not Peter’s as the door opened and woman came through. ‘Aunt May’, his mind helpfully supplied as if he hadn’t already drawn to that conclusion on his own and he found himself slowly panicking, but then her eyes met his face—and _fuck, his scars._

Her scream was more than enough to break Wade’s heart, to confirm all his fears, and to send him running, darting into his and Peter’s shared bedroom and slamming the door shut even as he heard her shrieking into her phone at the police about how there was a deformed man in her son’s apartment.

He knew he should have put on the glitter disco shirt. The unicorn on it would have been enough to distract her.

_Fuck._

“He’s covered in scars, you can’t miss him. I think he went out the window—my son isn’t here. I’ve never seen him before.”

She sounded frightened, positively terrified, and Wade didn’t have the heart, nor the emotional stability, at the moment to go out and explain the situation to her. Instead he found himself frantically pulling on his Deadpool suit in record time before he was packing up his ammo bag and grabbing every bit of evidence of Peter’s Spider-man life before he was indeed jumping out the window, using the spare web-shooters to get himself onto the roof of the building across from his and Peter’s.

There were tears blurring his vision and his landing was everything but smooth as he ducked and rolled, skidding to a stop with a quiet groan, body aching after the pummeling the cement gave him.

Shoving himself onto his hands and knees was a trial in and of itself as his trembling arms attempted to support him, one hand delving into one of his pouches to fish out his phone and frantically dial Peter’s number with gloved fingers, face tight, tears wetting the mask and breaths shallow.

After the third ring Peter picked up, his voice cheerful as he spoke into the phone. “Hey, Wade.”

“Aunt early, called cops.”

“What? Wade, that doesn’t make sense.”

Wade inhaled shakily, hands trembling.

He had nearly given Peter’s dear aunt a heart attack with his face.

_Fucking shitty fuck nuggets, god dammit._

“Your Aunt was early—she saw my face. She called the cops.”

He could hear the sound of Peter cursing, of his quick footsteps, people cussing at him and his thrown out apologies. “Dammit—I’m on my way. Wade, don’t you dare do anything stupid.”

Aw, he knew him so well he already knew Wade was fingering the gun strapped to his thigh, his heart seizing in his chest.

“I’m sorry, Petey. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to—didn’t mean to, I swear. I didn’t,” his voice broke and his shoulders shook as he curled forward, forehead resting against the concrete as sobs overtook him.

“No, no, don’t you apologize, Wade. This is not your fault. Now, listen to me—are you listening?”

Another sob tore through him, his eyes squeezing shut and he could barely breathe through the dampness in the mask, but he didn’t dare take it off. Not after that—never after that.

Her scream echoed through his mind and he wanted to scream, too.

God, he wanted to scream, too.

_“Wade!”_

“I’m listening; I’m here,” Wade gasped, punching his fist against the ground hard enough for the bone to break and have to stitch itself back together, hard enough to distract him from the mental turmoil he was going through.

“You’re going to go to Tony, okay?”

“Peter,” Wade whined. He just wanted to see Peter, he just wanted Peter. Just Peter, only Peter—oh god, _what had he done?_

“No, listen to me, Wade. You are going to go to Tony, okay? You took everything, right?”

He whimpered out a quiet affirmative, body moving to comply with Peter’s request, slinging his ammo bag and the bag with Peter’s Spidey stuff over his back so that the straps criss-crossed over his chest.

“Good; go to Tony’s. I’ll meet you there and then we’ll deal with this, okay?”

“Okay,” Wade found himself whispering, voice hoarse and broken. He could hear the police sirens and by the sounds of it, Peter could hear them over the phone too as he cursed up a storm, yelling at people to move out of the way in a way that was so not like Peter—but the kid had been living in New York for a while.

It was ridiculous to think he’d have a clean mouth.

He had learned early on in their relationship that Peter definitely did not have a clean vocabulary.

“This is not your fault, Wade.”

And he couldn’t fucking breathe with the mask on and tore it up to his nose so that he could draw in ragged breaths, tears hot against his face.

“It is, it is—I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“It’s not, Wade, I swear it isn’t your fault.”

“She screamed so loudly,” Wade whispered, voice cracking and choked as he readied the web-shooter.

“It’s not your fault.”

He jumped, firing the web as he made his way to Tony’s tower, keeping as out of the public’s eye as he could, phone webbed to his ear in the way he had seen Peter do countless times.

“Wade, are you still there?”

“Yeah,” he replied automatically, blinking his eyes rapidly so that he could see. He tried not to think, tried to run on autopilot, but the shrill sound when she saw his face—the horror etched onto her frail features.

It made him want to puke.

“Are you at the tower?”

“Almost,” he responded, once more doing it automatically.

“I’m almost there, too. I texted Tony; he’s expecting you. Go to the landing dock,” he instructed and Wade complied, shooting a web up once it was in his sights and swinging himself up. It was moments like this that he appreciated his adaptability.

True to Peter’s word, Stark was standing there on the landing dock, arms crossed over his chest, but he didn’t look hostile. More awkwardly concerned than anything as Wade stumbled forward, tearing the phone from his ear as he moved closer to Stark’s smaller figure.

“I’m here,” he mumbled, shoulders slumped, face stinging slightly and he tugged down his mask that he had accidentally kept up.

“I’ll be there soon, Wade. _I’ll be there soon_.”

_“Please.”_

**Author's Note:**

> I know it doesn't feel complete, but it is. It's an open ending--sort of.
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed and feel free to leave me some kudos. You can check out my other spideypool works if you'd like, also.
> 
> Drop me some comments down below on your thoughts. They truly make my day.
> 
> Feel free to find me on instagram (@saruma_aki) where I typically post fandom posts and alert you all whenever I post a new fic or update one.


End file.
